


Splinched

by orpheous87



Series: The Ides of Drarry 2020 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Auror Harry Potter, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Some Humor, Splinching (Harry Potter), Supportive Ron Weasley, The Ides of Drarry: A Drarry Game/Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: Harry and Draco have a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. After a particularly bad argument, things get even worse (but also get better).
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: The Ides of Drarry 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676821
Comments: 3
Kudos: 153
Collections: The Ides of Drarry: A Drarry Game/Fest





	Splinched

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Etalice for betaing ❤️

_”Fuck you!”_

The words were punctuated by a sharp crack, and then, Draco was gone. Disapparated. It was a sign of how angry he was that he’d made any noise. Normally, Draco’s apparition was almost silent. Harry gave a yell of frustration and aimed a kick at the settee he was standing beside, which only served to cause him a great deal of pain, seeing as he wasn’t wearing shoes. 

“Fuck!” he hissed, grabbing at his foot and hopping on the other until he fell onto the settee. When his toe stopped throbbing, he put his foot down gingerly. Then, he dug his hands into his hair, propping his elbows on his knees. It wasn’t the first time that he and Draco had argued, of course it wasn’t, but it was the worst one they’d had for years. 

Harry knew better than to try and find Draco just yet. They both needed to cool off a bit. He knew from past experiences that trying to talk so soon after an argument of this magnitude would only result in either another argument or one of them hexing the other one. 

Tugging at his hair slightly, Harry stood up and looked around. He didn’t want to stay in the house right now, he decided. Making his mind up, he went into the hall and jammed his feet into his trainers before heading back into the kitchen to the fireplace. He took a pinch of Floo powder from the tin on the mantelpiece and stepped into the grate. Taking a breath, he threw the powder down, calling out Ron and Hermione’s address. 

When he tumbled out of the grate at the other end, he was faced with a very confused Ron who was in the middle of bathing the cat in the kitchen sink. 

“What are you doing that in here for?” Harry asked with a frown as he stood up and brushed the soot from his clothes. 

“Christ, Harry!” Ron had exclaimed, jumping as Harry hit the floor. “You could have called through first! She, er, she got stuck under the car and ended up covered in oil. Hermione wouldn’t let me use magic on her to get it off, but— _ow_!” 

The cat hissed and yowled, catching Ron with a flailing claw as she tried to escape the soapy water.

“Need a hand?” Harry asked, amused. He was already feeling a little bit calmer, just being out of his own house. 

“Are you not even going to tell me why you’re here, scaring me half to death in my own kitchen?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I just… thought I’d drop in… have a drink or two?” Harry said tentatively, trying to keep his voice light. 

“Harry…” Ron said, still holding the cat with difficulty. “What’s happened?” 

Harry bit his lip and then heaved a sigh. “I’ve pissed Draco off. He’s gone.” 

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Ron asked, dropping the cat into the water in surprise. She yowled loudly once more and, before Ron could grab her, she streaked away leaving a trail of soapy bubbles in her wake. “Great. Hermione’s going to kill me.”

Harry followed the flight of the cat with his eyes before turning back to Ron. “Gone. He Disapparated. I’ve really fucked things up.” 

“How did you piss him off?” Ron asked, taking one step after the cat before shrugging and moving to dry his hands. 

“Well, I didn’t mean to,” Harry said defensively. “I’d just got in from work and I was… venting. I had to deal with a case that involved a rich, Pureblood couple and I may have, sort of, accidentally compared them to his parents.” 

“Harry!” Ron groaned, looking at him in disbelief. “After everything you’ve done to get over your differences? After everything _I’ve_ done to make peace with the ferrety git?” 

“Hey! He’s not a git,” Harry said with a sigh. “But I know. It’s my own stupid fault, I just didn’t think before I said it.” 

Ron snorted, opening the fridge and taking out two bottles of beer. “Really?” 

“Shut up. I don’t know how to fix this,” Harry muttered. “What do I do?” 

“Well, firstly, maybe try talking to him about it instead of me?” Ron asked, holding a bottle out. 

Harry shook his head, taking the lid off his bottle. “No, I can’t. Not yet,” he said. “It’s too soon, we’ll only argue again.” 

“You’ll have to talk to him sooner or later,” Ron said, taking a sip from his bottle. “What makes this time so different?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “He’s never gone off like that before. Normally he just ignores me for a couple of hours, then we… make up.” 

Ron wrinkled his nose and Harry knew that he knew full well what kind of making up Harry was talking about. “Alright, so what makes you think he won’t be back at your place now, waiting for you?” 

“You didn’t see the look on his face,” Harry said, looking down at the bottle in his hand. He bit his lip as he remembered the cold fury he’d seen in Draco’s eyes as they’d argued. “The last time I saw that look we were sixteen.” 

“That was ten years ago,” Ron said gently. “You’ve been together seven. He’ll just need some time to cool off, he’ll be back. I’m sure of it.” 

“I’m not,” Harry said softly, shaking his head. “I think I took it too far. Even though I didn’t mean to.” 

“He’ll understand that, Harry,” Ron said. “I mean, he knows you don’t think the same about his parents as you used to. You have dinner with them every month, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, but it’s always ridiculously awkward,” Harry sighed. “Lucius still doesn’t like me. He just… he gives me this _look_ and if looks could kill, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

“Lucius Malfoy has always been a prick,” Ron said, taking another drink from his bottle. “But he always looked out for Draco. When he wasn’t trying to sign him up for the Death Eaters, anyway.” 

Harry snorted softly. “Yeah, and I can bet that that’s where Draco is right now,” he said. “At Malfoy Manor, telling them they were right.” 

“Don’t be daft,” Ron said, shaking his head. “He’ll be there, but I doubt he’s telling them they were right. He’ll be whining and bitching just like you.” 

Harry paused with his bottle halfway to his mouth. “Thanks, Ron.”

Ron shrugged and took a swig from his bottle. “It’s true though,” he said. “You’re here, he’s there… you should both be in the same place, talking things through properly to avoid this happening again.”

Harry groaned and put the bottle down on the counter. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m going to go home. Hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

“It’s for the best,” Ron said, moving to clap a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You know I’m always here for you, but sometimes, I’m not what you need.” 

Harry gave him a small smile. “Thanks, I know and I appreciate your honest, honest words. I’ll call you later,” he said, giving Ron a pat on the back and heading back to the fireplace. 

“Make sure you do,” Ron said. “Now… I need to find that cat.” 

Harry laughed and took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot that was sitting on the mantelpiece. He stepped into the grate, threw the powder down and called out his own address.

***

Two days passed and Harry didn’t hear from Draco, nor did he see him. Any owl he sent was returned with the letter unread and, given that it was Draco’s owl he was using, delivered with a hearty bite to the knuckle.

With his fingers bruised, Harry went to work on the third day with the intention of going to Malfoy Manor straight afterwards. He couldn’t handle not speaking to Draco for any longer, but he knew he couldn’t avoid work.

“Potter, glad you could join us,” Robards greeted him as he walked into the Auror department. “Don’t sit down. There’s a case for you. An incident we think may be linked to that last case you worked on. I need you to go and speak to the couple and get as much information as possible.” 

Harry suppressed a groan and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Alone?” 

“No, Goosander is going with you.” 

Harry managed to stop himself from groaning once more. Goosander was very keen but also very inexperienced, and Harry found his enthusiasm a bit too much at the best of times. 

Goosander stepped forward quickly, giving Harry a grin.

Harry forced a smile in return, nodding his head slightly. Then he turned back to Robards. “Do you want us back here after we’ve spoken to them?” 

Robards nodded. “Yes. Then we can decide what we need to do from there.” 

Harry nodded his head once in acknowledgment before turning to Goosander. He gave a small sigh. “Right, come on then. Let’s get this done.”

“Right you are, Auror Potter,” Goosander said, moving forward again. “I—” 

Harry turned and left the department quickly, giving Goosander no choice but to follow hastily. Together they left the Ministry and headed to the address in the file that Robards had given Harry. 

“I was thinking, Auror Potter,” Goosander said as they hurried along the street. “Would you like me to take notes when we speak to the couple? I think I would benefit from letting you speak to them and you wouldn’t need to write the report up afterwards, because it would already be mostly written. And I could even take care of that for you, if you wanted. It wouldn’t be any trouble, honestly. I like writing up the reports, I find it helpful to go through it again.” 

“Yes, yes, whatever,” Harry said, blinking at the young Auror. He always found the way Goosander seemed to be able to talk for five minutes at a time without a breath unsettling. “Listen, Goosander, can we make this as quick as possible? I have something I need to do before I go back to the Ministry.” 

“Yes, Auror Potter, of course,” Goosander replied, nodding. “I don’t mind waiting for you before we go back. That way it’ll look like we’ve just taken plenty of time with the couple, won’t it?”

Harry shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Goosander, honestly,” he said. “You can go back to the Ministry and start writing the report up. If Robards asks, just tell him I had to go and see someone else.” 

“Alright,” Goosander said uncertainly. “If you’re sure that will be alright with Head Auror Robards. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, Auror Potter. I don’t mind covering for you. In fact, it would be my pleasure—”

“Honestly, it’ll be fine,” Harry said quickly, trying to stop Goosander from beginning another non-stop stream of chatter. “Ah, here we are,” he added, looking up at the house they’d stopped in front of. 

Five minutes later, they were sitting in the couple’s front room with Goosander scribbling frantically on a piece of parchment as Elizabeth Evergreen recounted the incident that had taken place the night before. 

As Harry continued to ask questions, he felt a knot settle in the pit of his stomach. With each answer given by Elizabeth Evergreen, the knot grew and Harry stopped asking questions. He motioned to Goosander to take over, ignoring the look of surprise on the young Auror’s face. 

Harry had thought it would help to have someone else do the talking, but it turned out that listening was even worse. When the knot in his stomach had grown so large that it could no longer be tolerated, Harry stood up. “Excuse me,” he muttered, making his way into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and turned on the spot. 

The moment he turned, an excruciating pain ripped through him and Harry knew that something had gone terribly wrong.

***

“Draco, darling, forgive me for being blunt, but when are you going home?”

Draco stared at his mother in disbelief. “Well, thank you, Mother. I love you too.” 

“Darling, I know you’re hurt and angry, but surely you cannot believe that Harry truly meant what he said?” Narcissa asked. 

“I don’t know what to believe,” Draco said, sighing. “I know that arguing is part of our relationship, we’ve always done it, but… it’s never been this personal before.” 

“Perhaps Harry was delirious?” Narcissa suggested. 

Draco snorted. “Mother, he might be a lot of things, but delirious is not usually one of them.” 

“I’m just saying that perhaps it would be for the best if you spoke to him in person,” Narcissa continued gently. “Nothing can be resolved if you are here and he is at home. Just think about it.” 

“Alright,” Draco said with another sigh. “I’ll—” 

Before he could finish his sentence, a crack pierced the air and something fell to the floor in the centre of the room. 

As Draco jumped to his feet, he realised that it wasn’t a some _thing_ but a some _one_ , and not just any someone. “Harry!” 

Narcissa gave a small shriek of surprise before hurrying to the door. “Lucius!”

Draco dropped to his knees beside Harry, his eyes wide with shock as they took in the scene. Harry was groaning terribly and his uniform was shining with what Draco assumed to be Harry’s own blood. Then he saw the reason for all the blood. The sleeve of Harry’s uniform was gaping open where it had been torn and a large chunk was missing from his arm.

“What—” Lucius began as he entered the room, skidding to a stop as he saw the reason for Narcissa’s shout. 

Draco looked up at his parents in horror. “He’s splinched himself. I… I need to help him.” 

“Draco, he should go to the hospital,” Narcissa said in a hushed voice, averting her gaze slightly. 

“No!” Draco exclaimed. “I can sort this!” he gently cupped Harry’s face with both of his hands. “Harry… Harry, can you hear me?” 

“Draco, your mother is right,” Lucius said, his voice quieter than usual. “We are not equipped to deal with something like this.” 

“Of course we are!” Draco snapped. “I have supplies in my room and I am a qualified Healer! I just… I need some _space_ ,” he said, pointing his wand at the coffee table and sending it sliding across the floor until it hit the wall.

Narcissa laid her hand on Lucius’ arm. “Perhaps we should leave him to it,” she said softly, recognising that Draco would not take any of their advice. 

“Narcissa, that is _Harry Potter_ and he is _bleeding_ all over our floor,” Lucius hissed, turning away from Draco and Harry. “Have you any idea how this would look if people found out?” 

“Lucius, Draco is more than capable,” Narcissa said, giving Lucius a small push towards the door. 

“I know he is,” Lucius sighed. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Harry Potter is currently bleeding all over our parlour floor with no explanation.”

“We can get an explanation later,” Narcissa said, pushing Lucius the rest of the way out of the room. “Let us leave Draco to get on with it.” 

Draco ignored them and turned his attention back to Harry, who had just given another groan. “Harry?” 

Harry’s eyes fluttered open briefly and he gave a half smile that quickly turned into a grimace. “Oh good,” he said vaguely. “I made it.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Draco muttered as Harry’s eyes shut again, another groan reverberating around the room. “I missed you, you idiot, but I didn’t want to see you like this.” 

Harry’s breathing was laboured as his arm continued to bleed. 

Draco took a deep breath and summoned his supplies. Then he got to work. He ripped Harry’s uniform off, using a severing charm to start and then his hands to take the whole top off so that he could see what he was dealing with. 

“Merlin, Potter, how on earth did you manage this?” he muttered as he began to clean the wound on Harry’s arm. “Why didn’t you just _call_ me?” 

Grabbing a bottle of dittany from his bag, Draco carefully applied it to the wound, wincing as he took in exactly how big it was. He knew that dittany alone wouldn’t fix this, but it would at least slow the bleeding down to give him a chance to find the healing salve he knew was in his bag somewhere. “Harry, I know you probably can’t hear me properly right now, but when you’re healed, I am going to _kill_ you,” he muttered. “I _never_ want to see you like this again.” 

While he cleaned and treated the wound, he kept up a continuous stream of chatter, mostly to steady his own nerves. If he paused for long enough, he could see his hands shaking. Harry’s arm was also trembling, but Draco knew that was down to the nature of the wound. The salve he’d applied would guard against any permanent nerve damage, he knew that, but it still worried him.

After a tense half hour, Draco sat back on his heels and exhaled. His hair stuck limply to his forehead and his clothes were stained with Harry’s blood. The wound had finally stopped bleeding and was already showing signs of healing. 

A light knock came at the door and Narcissa entered cautiously. “How is he?”

“He’s stable,” Draco sighed, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, smearing blood across his pale skin. “But he’s going to need frequent care. Can we make up a room?” 

“The house elves have already done it,” Narcissa said, coming to stand beside Draco and placing her hand on his shoulder. “I had a feeling he wouldn’t be going anywhere quickly.” 

Draco shook his head. “No. He’ll be here for a few days at least. We both will.” 

“What do you think happened?” 

“I have no idea,” Draco said softly. “I think he was trying to come here, which hopefully means nothing bad happened. I imagine he was distracted as he set off.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Narcissa said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Should we get in touch with anyone? His boss?” 

Draco shook his head. “No,” he said. “He’s probably not supposed to be here. I don’t want to get him into trouble. I’ll firecall Weasley. He and Granger will know what to do.” 

“Alright,” Narcissa nodded. “Is he up to eating and drinking?” 

Draco shook his head again. “No,” he said. “Not yet. I’ve given him something that will keep him nourished. I’ll need to top it up a couple of times a day.” 

Narcissa nodded again. “Very well. When you’re ready, there is food for you in the kitchen. I asked the elves to prepare you a meal.” 

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco replied, giving her a tired smile. “I’ll call Weasley now and then get myself cleaned up.” 

Narcissa smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’ll leave you alone. The elves can help you move Harry when you’re ready.” 

Draco nodded. “Perfect. I won’t be long,” he said as she turned and left the room. Then he took a deep breath and moved to the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he threw it into the flames and called out Ron and Hermione’s address. 

“Malfoy? Have you spoken to Harry?” 

Draco blinked as he stared for a moment at Ron, who was once again in the middle of bathing the cat. “Why are you bathing that poor cat?” 

“She’s covered in oil. Again. Well? Have you spoken to— wait, is that blood?” Ron replied, looking at Draco closely, unsure if it was the flames tricking his eyes. 

“Yes. But… it’s not mine,” Draco said carefully, knowing that Ron would get his meaning. 

Ron dropped the cat into the bowl of soapy water for the second time in less than a week. “What’s happened? Is he alright?” he asked, ignoring the soapy cat streaking away once more.

“He’s splinched himself,” Draco said, frowning slightly. “He turned up a little while ago, covered in blood and practically unconscious. I’ve treated him and he’s stable now, but he’ll be out of action for a few weeks. I didn’t want to speak to Robards first.” 

“No, understandable,” Ron replied with a nod. “I’ll get Hermione to speak to him. She’ll stop him from going off on one.” 

“Do you know what he was supposed to be doing today?” Draco asked. “I wasn’t expecting him to just turn up like that.” 

Ron shook his head. “No,” he said. “I spoke to him the other day. He was really sorry for what he’d said to you.” 

Draco grimaced. “I should have been the one apologising to him,” he said. “I was being irrational. I know he didn’t mean it, and I’ll tell him that when he’s up to it.” 

“Good, make sure you do,” Ron said. “This can’t keep happening, you know. You two, arguing so often. We all know you love each other, start bloody acting like it.”

Draco blinked again. “Have you just told me off?” 

“Yep,” Ron said, folding his arms across his chest. “And I don’t care if you don’t like it. Go and take care of Harry. I’ll take care of telling Robards.” 

“Thank you,” Draco said gratefully, nodding. “Let me know what Robards says. I don’t suppose he’ll be too impressed that Harry’s not in the hospital, but it’s too risky to move him that far now.” 

“Yeah, I’ll let him know that,” Ron said, nodding. “Take care.” 

Draco nodded again, too. “You too,” he said, before ending the call and turning back to Harry. “Well, who would ever have thought that I could be that civil to Weasley?” he said softly. He gazed at Harry for a moment, then shook his head slightly and headed for the bathroom.

***

The next morning, Draco woke early and immediately slipped out of bed. He had one thought and that was to check on Harry. He padded along the landing towards the room they’d set up for the purpose. Ordinarily, if they were staying with Draco’s parents, they would share a room but these were special circumstances.

Pushing the door open carefully, Draco entered the room, ready to perform the diagnostic spells that would tell him how Harry was doing. Only, as he reached the bed, he realised he didn’t need to because Harry was awake. “Harry,” he breathed, immediately reaching for his hand. 

Harry turned his head and tried to focus. “Draco, I’m sorry, I—” 

“Don’t,” Draco said quickly, before handing Harry his glasses. “I know, and I am too. I overreacted. I know you didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” 

“But I should have been more thoughtful,” Harry said with a sigh, putting his glasses on. 

Draco shook his head, conjuring a chair to sit on. “But that wouldn’t be you,” he said softly. “I like you the way you are, rash and impulsive. You keep me on my toes, although sometimes I wish you wouldn’t, but I love that about you.” 

Harry smiled, squeezing Draco’s hand gently. “And I love you for never just letting me get away with shit. I like that you challenge me. I know we argue, but… I never want to be without you. The last two days have been awful.” 

“I know,” Draco said. “I’ve been miserable without you. I was going to come home yesterday afternoon, but something stopped me.” 

“Me?” Harry asked, wincing slightly as he shifted in the bed. 

“Yes. I wanted to see you, just not covered in your own blood and barely conscious,” Draco replied wryly. “That was not a surprise I enjoyed. How did you even manage it?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said with a sigh. “I was out on a case with Goosander and, well, you know what he’s like. I just… I got overwhelmed. The case was related to the one I was on the day we argued and all I wanted was to see you. I don’t even know why I decided to Apparate, but I did and, well, you know the rest. How bad is the damage?” 

“Bad,” Draco said. “Very bad. You’d lost a lot of blood and it took a while to stop bleeding. You shouldn’t have any nerve damage though. The salve I applied was fast acting. Do you feel any pain now?” 

“A bit,” Harry admitted. “It’s aching more than anything else.”

Draco nodded. “I expected it to,” he said. “I don’t want you to move unless you absolutely have to.” 

“Anything you want,” Harry said immediately. “You’re the Healer.” 

“Damn right,” Draco replied, smiling for the first time since entering the room. “You can go to the bathroom, but other than that I want you as still as possible to give that wound a chance to heal properly. There’s quite a big hole under that bandage.” 

Harry made a face. “I really did a number on myself, didn’t I?” he sighed. 

“Yes,” Draco said, nodding. “You have no idea how worried I was when I realised it was you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. “I really didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I know, don’t worry about it now,” Draco said. “It’s done, you survived and now you’ve got to heal.” 

Harry smiled. “Yes, sir,” he said softly. “Am I too injured to get a kiss?”

Draco chuckled softly. “If you play your cards right,” he said. “Let me do some diagnostic spells and then we’ll see.” 

Harry grinned. “Alright, do your worst,” he said. 

Draco stood up and began the diagnostic spells, watching as the magic washed over Harry’s prone body. A few minutes later, he had finished and put his wand away. “You’re in a stable position,” he said. “There’s still a lot of damage to your arm, but you should be alright to sit up a bit and have some breakfast.” 

“And my kiss?” Harry asked, hopefully. 

Draco smiled and leant down, kissing Harry gently, cupping his cheek with one hand. “Happy now?” he asked as they parted. 

“Very,” Harry smiled. 

“Good, now stay still and I’ll go and get you some breakfast,” Draco said, stroking Harry’s cheek gently with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

“I won’t move a muscle,” Harry said solemnly, nodding his head. 

Draco nodded and left the room, glancing back at Harry over his shoulder as he reached the door. He knew they’d be okay.


End file.
